


The weight of the world at your fingertips

by TrenchCoatHamilham



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But there's some good, HOMELESS!EREN, Hallucinations, Inspired by Music, Levi/Eren Yeager-centric, Light Angst, Like Levi (cough cough), M/M, New York City, Past Character Death, Recovered Memories, Sad Ending, Singer!Levi, Songs by Sleeping at Last, The musical reincarnation AU nobody asked for, also song cameos by Ben Platt, just sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:30:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrenchCoatHamilham/pseuds/TrenchCoatHamilham
Summary: "𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵... 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩,𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦... 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵."Levi Ackerman is a singer and songwriter who roams the streets of New York City in search of inspiration for his poetic music- and for the face of a nameless young man that wanders his dreams and visions of memories he's never lived.Eren Jaeger is a homeless man who is constantly haunted by hallucinations of man-eating giants and walls that touch the sky. But one recurring image of a short but fierce dark-haired warrior brings him light in the darkness of his own mind. All he has left is him, and an old radio- his only connection to somewhere other than the harsh streets of New York.Levi was promised to have his music find every radio in the world.Eren won't rest until he finds the man that lives in his mind, and Levi won't stop making music until he reaches the man that haunts his dreams.





	1. Observations and Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my new fanfic: _The weight of the world at your fingertips_
> 
> Reincarnation AUs make me cry too much, but I'm writing one now... *cri*
> 
> Quick mention: The songs in this fic are all by Sleeping At Last (except for a couple by Ben Platt at the end, but those are a long way off!). 
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy!

_In the darkest of nights,_  
_The city of lights  
_Will pour onto us.__

____

Squares of light flashed rapidly across cream-tinted walls- or maybe the walls were white, and the light was yellow? Or, better yet, the off-white paint on the walls could make multicolored light look like one solid shade! Yes, the sharp but misty headlights of speeding cars was so complex that even the color of the walls was kept a secret!  


Levi wondered what those lights would look like as they ran over his eyes. He knew that the black-against-silver of his pupil would bend it a bit, making his jewel-like iris glitter.  


He decided to turn his back from the wall to face the windows of his room. Whenever he made the ritual transition from wall to window, he regretted not paying for windows as walls. He could’ve been looking at how the city lights touched the velveteen surface of his couch, the rough and shiny hardwood floorboards, or its detailed reflection coming off the tv.  


Still, he liked keeping the cityscape’s wonders confined to the specific spot he was in. Whenever night fell, his bedroom was bathed in the light of streetlamps far below him and the fading of headlights as they reached sideways.  
He could almost feel the light’s soft touch as it ran over his body, traveling from a jutting strand of messy jet-black hair to his toes, which were covered in fluffy socks.  


He could feel it piercing his eyes, lifting his drooping eyelids and waking him from his observational state of mind.

 _Creeping inside_  
_Through our sleepy eyes,  
_Contagiously bright.__

__

__

Levi quickly scribbled down the genius lines of poetry on a notepad lying on the vacant pillow next to him. He wasn’t going to let this song slip away.  
But he needed more lyrics.  


He lied down again, still facing the window. This time, he saw more than just lights.  
There were people. People were in the skyscrapers across from him, wasting away in their offices. He noticed one freckled man with an undercut similar to his own, though it was hard to tell from a distance, dozing off at his desk. He caught himself from hitting the wood just as gravity began to pull too hard on his leaning head.  


Two floors below him, he spotted a short blonde girl leaning over the top of her desk. She was being pushed forward rhythmically, as if…  


Levi grimaced at his own thoughts. Why would anybody be having sex at this hour, on their filthy work desk?  
He turned around, away from the window. Out of the corner of his eye, Levi could see a taller, brown-haired woman rocking the short girl back and forth. Both were fully clothed except for their slacks being pulled down just enough to hint at what they were doing.  


People really were boring sometimes. Levi couldn’t stand to watch humans live their lives without purpose, rotting in their offices and finding pleasure in something so animalistic as sex.  


He decided to open the curtains, but purposely chose to left the windows open. If he couldn’t watch the city without disturbances, then he’d listen to it. Maybe he could take inspiration from the sounds of New York’s nightlife.  


_Car horn, car passing by, car horn, petty argument…  
_

Levi listed each noise he heard on his notepad. He was losing hope far too quickly. Why was New York so normal? This was the city of freedom, the city of dreams, the city of 8 million people-  


_...Captain, titan up ahead!  
_

Levi jumped, putting his hand to his waist, poised and waiting for just the right moment. He turned his head to give orders to those behind him.  
But nobody was there.

~~~

Musky forest air filled the space around him as Eren rode forward on his horse. Ominous towering trees and the quickening breathing of his comrades made him aware of the danger they were in. As soon as he finished that thought, a gigantic, human-like monster jumped out of the woods. 

A titan. 

Eren decided to warn Captain Levi, so he could make a plan and organize the group. They were riding next to each other with Petra, Oluo, Gunther, and Moblit right behind. He glanced towards Levi, discreetly admiring the clarity and focus in his eyes. Eren knew he’d handle the situation well. He remembered seeing the man as a child, returning from an expedition outside the walls. His eyes were always cold, devoid of emotion. There always seemed to be less of his comrades than before, but Levi handled it very well. 

He kept it all inside- Eren admired that. It meant Levi was strong enough to stay rational. 

He made the choice to alert Levi of the threat. 

“Captain, titan up ahead!” 

Eren had intended for this to be a little louder than a whisper, but heard a shout instead. He knew Levi was going to send a glare his way, but was interrupted. The titan sprang towards them, bobbing from side to side as it leaped through the air. 

Just as the monster was about to take them out with a swipe of its hand, Levi sprang from his horse, flew into the sky, and slashed the giant’s hand off, moving up towards its shoulder in a blur, making ribbons of its skin. 

A cloud of steam traveled from the mutilated arm to the squad, scalding their faces. Eren instinctively closed his eyes to stop the flesh-melting steam.  
As he opened them, the landscape morphed into rectangular towers and dark crevices in alleyways. The vibrant forest disappeared, along with the people he felt so comfortable with- along with his savior, the Captain. 

A cold breeze pinched Eren’s red cheek, exposed to the wind. One side of his head rested against a brick wall as the other faced the traffic-infested streets of New York. He turned his head, pushing it between two walls into a corner. Eren draped a dark green blanket over his back, and pulled a radio, a pile of books and purse closer to his little corner of the world. 

Eren loved New York. 

He was even wearing an “I ♥️ NY” t-shirt. It was cheap, and showed his feelings towards the city perfectly. 

He loved the people who walked by without a glance towards him, rushing past. He loved the children who stared and pointed at him, and the mothers who dragged them away in embarrassment. He loved the people who gave him a penny, and those who gave bills with mismatched watermarks and printed presidents. 

He loved the people who believed they were free. 

Eren loved watching the number of people get smaller as more lights went out in the buildings around him. He loved to chat with confused drunks, or guide a lost tourist late at night. He loved the pigeons that chose to cover his street corner in white. He loved the feeling of artificial wind as cars flew by. He loved the smell of construction, of cigarettes, of humanity. 

He loved New York. 

Eren shivered as another gust of wind threatened to blow away his blanket. 

_This is home, no matter how harsh._  
Home can be a place- a house, for example. Home can be a city, like New York. Home can also be a person...  
Someone who makes you feel safe and happy. 

__

“O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,  
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,  
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting...” 

A poem from one of his books came to mind. Walt Whitman- a masterful poet, alive during the assassination of Lincoln, wrote this masterpiece. Eren loved his poems, especially this one. It was a little piece of history, filled with emotion and love for the dead President.  
But that name- Captain- echoed within him. Eren felt that it referred to the man that appeared to him as his savior in dreams and visions.  
He was Eren’s beloved captain, but a nameless one. 

_Did he have a name?_

__

Eren searched his mind, navigating the fuzziness of his dream. He knew the name had two syllables, for sure.  
Jean-boy?  
_Too annoying._  
Marco?  
_Too sweet._  
Levi… Leviathan?  
_Familiar, like a biblical name... but it sounds evil._

_____ _

Eren didn’t want to be troubled by this any longer. He considered the captain’s attitude. The man seemed serious but humble. 

“O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;  
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,  
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,  
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;” 

_Captain; a fitting name for such a man! _Eren smiled to himself.__  
Yes, Captain was a lovely name; it suited him. He was respected. Eren wondered if he’d ever been given flowers and cheering crowds.  
He rummaged through the pile of books next to him, and picked out his favorite collection of poetry.  
Eren flipped to page 34. There it was- “O Captain! My Captain!” By Walt Whitman. He smiled and scanned the page to find the verse where he last left off. Eren had much of the poem memorized after reading it over and over again out of boredom, during his first days of living out on the streets. 

____

“Here Captain! dear father!  
This arm beneath your head!  
It is some dream that on the deck,  
You’ve fallen cold and dead.” 

Eren froze for a second. Then, he leaned back against the brick wall of a dark townhouse, letting it support his weight. Taking a deep breath, he continued to read. 

“My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,  
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,  
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,  
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;  
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!  
But I with mournful tread,  
Walk the deck my Captain lies,  
Fallen cold and dead.” 

_My Captain._

__

__

Faint images of a flashing sword and spurting blood played in his mind’s eye. Eren became sick to his stomach with fear, but felt hot tears well up in his eyes. He identified this as the pain of loss. He’d lost his mother to monsters and his father to drugs. That was horrible, and still fresh in his mind.  
But this… this pain was deeper. It felt older and hidden from this world. 

Eren lifted his head up to the sky, looking for stars. Those were ancient. Maybe he’d find the answers to this strange and new-but-old pain there. But he found none, seeing only the city’s lights. 

His dreams always had stars in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I used a song in the chapter, I'll put in the notes at the end whenever there's a new one.
> 
> Chapter 1: A Skeleton of Something More- Sleeping at Last


	2. A Skeleton of Something More

Levi was still in the position that warning had left him in. His hand was hovering at his hilt, ready to grab gear. He was leaning forward a bit, as if he was about to spring up. Even his eyes darted from one dark crevice to another. 

Levi managed to calm his rapid breathing. He lifted a hand to his cheek, stroked it for affirmation of his existence. 

_I’m in New York, in my apartment, alone._

__

He drew in a sharp breath and let it out, slowly and with awareness. Levi’s attempts to calm himself were working. He knew how to handle adrenaline, choosing the right response for the right moment. 

Something told him to “fight” this time. 

Levi ran to the open windows that replaced the stale air in his apartment. He was going to figure out exactly what that sentence had meant. 

Scanning the street, he only saw some of the people from before. The freckled man had left. He was now on the sidewalk, shuffling along without rhythm. The two women making love had returned to their separate work desks. They stole glances at each other as their hands scribbled messy graphemes on stiff paper. 

Levi frowned. Did all that really take up so much time? He thought that it had all taken place in less than three seconds. If that was true, then the people around him must’ve had a knack for getting things done. 

_How long does it take to travel from one world to another?_

__

Levi drew his eyebrows together. It was like a daydream, those flashes of green. He barely remembered the color, let alone details, of his surroundings. 

The faint sound of metal dropping on metal got his attention. He sifted through the shadows, picking apart their contents hidden from bright light, but couldn’t find the source. 

“Thank you, Marco.” 

_That’s it. The voice._

__

Levi stuck his head out the window and turned it to the side. He set his eyes on a street corner across from his apartment building, and found the man just as he uttered a name. 

The man’s mouth was moving- nothing else. He was leaning sideways against a wall, with only his head uncovered by a blanket. Levi could make out his silhouette, thanks to a far-off streetlight. It wasn’t very interesting, though. He was curled up and hunched over for protection from the light breeze. 

What caught his eye was not the man’s position, book in his hands or strange insignia on his blanket, but his eyes. 

They sparkled.  
As soon as the man blinked, though, the sparkle was gone. 

_Tears._

__

Levi stiffened. The familiarity of tears in those eyes, now illuminated clearly by the moon, shook him.  
The man’s eyes were green. 

_A green flash._

__

His legs weakened and Levi tumbled backwards, grabbing on to his bed for balance. But his rescue-attempt failed, and he hit his room’s wood floor with a soft thud. He was now on the floor next to a broken pencil and a notepad with the sounds of New York listed. 

_All the sounds except a warning about a beast._

__

Levi felt a wave of cold come over him, flowing through his veins and passing by each vital part of him, stopping to make sure every single piece of his body was filled with an awareness of what was about to come. 

His confusion was growing. He wanted to escape the uneasiness and go back to observing the world without interacting with it. That homeless man had caught him off guard.  
He had no reason to cry. He got money from… Marco. The sleeping-work-man.  
Levi painstakingly tried to rationalize his reaction. He didn’t know why he’d fallen or become numbingly cold, and felt fear arise from his lack of control. 

_Try to stay in control._

__

Levi looked around his bedroom.  
He had four walls, two of which had floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city, or more accurately, a view of his apartment complex. He had a bed. His bed was big. 

_Remember the details._

__

He could fit two people in the bed. He had positioned it himself, along with the carpet for his wood floor and a desk. And a nightstand. And another desk.  
_I planned and arranged this room myself, for myself._

__

__

This was his room. 

Feeling a bit more sure of his surroundings, Levi pulled himself up onto his bed and rolled across it, facing a window-wall.  
That was a big mistake. 

He saw the man again. This time, the whites of his eyes revealed that his pupil was pointed directly at his window. Or, to be exact, him.  
There were no tears in his eyes this time- only wonder. 

Levi ran to his window at full speed and closed the curtain. He did the same to the window adjacent to the other, pulling the curtains together until no light could get through. His room was completely dark, except for the blue light of his vibrating phone. 

Levi decided to ignore it, and crawled back onto his bed. He got under the covers, pulled them over his head, and listened to the vibration of his phone… and the soft humming of a tune coming from a crack in the window. 

_That’s my melody._

__

__

He sprung up from his bed, drew open the curtains and frantically shut the windows he had left open. He kept his eyes closed from fear of seeing the man again. As he walked away from the windows once again, he picked up the notepad and half of a pencil he had left on the floor from when he’d reacted to that phrase.  
_“Captain, titan up ahead!”_  
The words echoed in his head, but were replaced by that melody from the same voice. 

__

__

_We'll be waiting for the night,_  
_Waiting for the night_  
_To come and rescue us,_  
_Feet off the ground._

_____ _

_____ _

Words that floated around his head during that experience fell into place. He wanted shelter from the light; from what he could see. He hoped that the night would save and comfort him. But his pleas lost their clarity as the night went on, dragging time with it. What seemed like a pure wish to be comforted turned to a blurry letter sent to the night, asking for the impossible. 

_A skeleton of something more._


	3. Discover Me

“Thank you, Marco.” 

Eren’s head was still facing the sky. It had changed: the moon was visible now. 

He considered turning to look at Marco, but decided not to. Not now, right after he’d been hit with a rollercoaster of emotion and visions that didn’t seem to be triggered- not obviously, at least.  
Even though he wasn’t in the mood for talk, Eren acknowledged Marco. 

The tall businessman was unusually kind. He was such a giving person… Eren chose to thank him each time he donated to his pitiful, begging self. That choice made for him thanking someone every day; it felt fulfilling, to give out gratitude like that, but Eren was wary that it might turn into a habit. The donation would be following routine and the thanks would be scripted with empty intentions behind it. 

Eren never wanted that to happen.  
He strived to put truth into all he said, and to recognize truth in all that was said to him. He’d hate to associate with a liar; he made sure that his limited amount of friends and acquaintances had clear intentions and were honest with him. 

That freed them from the apathy in this world.  
Freedom always tumbled around in his mind, but it rarely showed itself in his life. The city he loved caged him in, and the homeless life gave freedom only in the ignorant thinking of theory.  
The same went for the symbol on his blanket- one dark blue feathered wing with a white wing partly overtop of it. 

_The Wings of Freedom._

__

He’d been familiar with the image ever since he could remember. It had appeared in his dreams when he was a child, and now in his visions- or as his family had diagnosed them- hallucinations. It was placed upon the sleeves of passerby, and on the lapels of suits. And, though rarely, he would sometimes see it on the back of someone’s flowing coat.  
Marco usually had it sewn in on the left side of his business suit, on the chest. Eren moved his eyes to take another look at it, but Marco had left. Everyone bearing the Wings of Freedom seemed to leave him before he had a chance to get to know them. They were either creeped out or had something better to do than talk to a homeless hobo-looking man. 

Marco was one exception to those people. So were two women who worked at the same place as him; Ymir and Historia- who insisted her name was Krista, no matter how many times Eren deliberately got her name wrong. He was completely sure that “Krista” was an alias.  
The couple had known each other as coworkers for quite some time, but they connected one day when they were both chosen for a task that would save the company from going bankrupt. They succeeded, got to know each other, and unusually quickly declared their love for one another. They claimed to be soulmates. 

Ymir was hesitant to talk to Eren at first, but “Krista” told him her life story as if they were old friends reuniting. Sometimes, he felt like that was true. 

These women also bore the Wings of Freedom; Ymir’s jacket lapel had the design, while Krista’s was on her burgundy cloak. She had a strange fashion sense, considering she wore elegant dresses and capes to a casual-dress workplace. 

The regal style suited her. 

Of course, they had to go home after a long day of work like everyone else. At least they had the time to talk to him a while. It distracted him from the coldness of the streets. But there was nothing to remove him from the world’s loneliness now. 

Tears formed in his eyes. He wasn’t sure why he was crying now. He’d been sure before; those were tears of loss, brought to his eyes by the emotion of poetry. This was something far removed from simple loss or grief. 

He was looking for something he didn’t have. 

He missed the camaraderie that an army has- the brotherhood that war can form between people born in a cruel world. He hadn’t known that feeling in New York, even with his parents. Their love was good and kind, but short-lived. 

That thought gave Eren a sense of déjà vu. Most of his hallucinations gave him that feeling; the Wings of Freedom, Historia, the things he shouted in his all-too-vivid dreams… 

The night sky stayed the same in everything he saw, though.  
He loved looking at it, undisturbed and untouched by skyscrapers that may someday reach Earth’s atmosphere.  
The world around him was still. Soft white light from a window across the street fell on the road separating him from the source.  
The world around him was still for what seemed an impossible amount of time… except for a shadow that blocked out the white rectangle of light he could see out of the corner of his eye.  
He shifted his gaze to look at what had covered it. 

It was a person. 

Eren studied the man. Light shone on his back, making his facial features indistinguishable, except for a small, upturned nose and parted lips, probably from shock. Eren knew he wouldn’t see much from the man’s face, so he diverted his attention to his hair. It was jet-black and glossy, styled in an undercut that looked professionally done. He had a feeling the man didn’t like it cut by someone other than himself. 

He blinked making tears spill onto his cheeks, which were becoming red and blotchy. The man in the window seemed to notice, leaning out further.  
As he leaned forward, his eyes captured that evening’s dim moonlight. Eren wasn’t sure if it was the truth or moonlight’s illusion, but the man’s eyes were gray; and upon closer inspection, silver. 

Another wave of déjà vu- no- recognition fell over him. 

_I’ve seen you before._

__

The man’s eyes were wide, and his head of hair shook with each frantic breath. He quickly moved away from the window; Eren could almost describe his movements as falling, but the distance left him unsure.  
Eren moved his head up and down a bit, trying to get a better view of the room. He wanted to observe the man some more and scratch the itch of curiosity and impression of recognition. Most of all, he wanted to see if he was alright after the fall and thud he heard. That was most important. 

There was nothing he could do for him, though. 

That frustrated Eren more than anything. He wanted to go see what had happened, and be there for him if the need arose. He wanted to hold the man’s head in his arms and cradle it, just like- 

_My Captain._

__

_“Here Captain! dear father!_  
_This arm beneath your head!_  
_It is some dream that on the deck,  
_You’ve fallen cold and dead.”__

____

____

He mouthed the last line silently. 

Eren lost the clear line between a reaction to poetry and to reality. He didn’t know if he was remembering the poem and his attachment and emotions that came with it, or if he was truly experiencing grief.  
Once again, dread crept up his spine, bringing fear and loss along with it. He couldn’t let Captain- or anyone, in that matter- to die when he could easily intervene. He wasn’t helpless this time, and could prevent that.  
But he couldn’t prevent it. 

Eren gave up and let go of his frustration. Maybe the man would be fine. He was probably just overthinking, after all. He knew he suffered from paranoia. 

Eren waited, pushing away that cold dread and welcoming the freshness of curiosity. Maybe he’d get some more details about the man, and confirm that he wasn’t Captain. That would be impossible. 

His family had dismissed the authenticity of his hallucinations the moment he began talking about them, which, as his parents told him, was as soon as he could speak. They told stories of his terrible insomnia as an infant, where he rolled around screaming. His dictionary of baby-jargon was comprised of words unfamiliar to a toddler, such as “titan”, “revenge” and “I will kill them all.” Eren was surprised his parents hadn’t sent him to a child psychologist at that age.  
Many of his present hallucinations had been dreams when he was younger. They made much more sense, Eren recalled, and they were significantly clearer than the distorted images and fragments he saw now. 

Eren was lost in thought, remembering his deeply troubling but mostly happy beginnings. He barely noticed the stranger’s head poking out of the window again. As he did, the man slammed the window shut. The suddenness snapped Eren out of his daydream. He noticed the man turning around, about to step away from the window. 

But he stood there for a while longer, probably longer than he meant to. Part of his face was covered by shadow again; the other was turned to his room’s light.  
Eren took that moment to take a good look at him.  
His head and torso were turned away from Eren, but his legs were set apart wide and positioned towards him. He knew the man was looking down at him, observing. 

Eren could only watch as what he saw blended with another view of the man, standing atop a human-like mound with its titanic head pushed into the ground in front of him. 

The dark skies of New York turned to reds and purple, tinted by an orange sunset. The man was illuminated from behind, just as he’d been in the room. His downward gaze shifted from person to person- he and two people beside him. They were Eren’s friends. He knew them in New York, though they were hard to recognize here. One had a head of yellow hair in a bowl cut- a dreamer, Eren remembered. He’d always wanted a better life than that of a homeless man, and told Eren stories of the things they could do and see one day, when they earned enough money to get off the streets. The other was very close to him; she gave off an aura of protectiveness towards him, and of incredible strength. Eren smiled.  
_That’s Mikasa!_  
He could only see her scarf now, but he was planning to go and see her tomorrow. 

Eren was glad to recognize them, but felt uneasy about the stranger looking at him and his friends, his focus being mostly on him. 

Before he could make sense of why he was here, the man leaped off the giant and ran off. The sunset faded to black, and his companions were gone.  
Eren was left in the dark, wondering. He knew the man had saved him from that monster. 

_Captain does the same thing._

__

He came to, realizing that the man had stopped staring and ran off to turn out the lights. It was late, and he’d been shocked, for some reason. 

Eren was surprised it took him so long to realize why he’d been so concerned for that man. 

_He’s Captain._

__

Eren didn’t want to be there anymore. The fact that his hallucinations felt more and more real scared him. He had to get out of there before giant monsters started attacking New York.  
He took the green blanket off his back and laid it out on the sidewalk. He placed the necessities- his radio, books, money and some more onto the blanket. He then tied the corners together and slipped a couple of fingers between them to support its weight, like a plastic shopping bag. 

He was going to visit Mikasa a little earlier than he had planned. 

Eren turned a corner and ran off into the night. He didn’t notice his beloved book of poetry fall out of his makeshift bag onto the sidewalk, barely making a sound.

~~~

Levi was being watched and he knew it. 

He wasn’t just being watched by Eren, though. Armin, overly protective Mikasa, Judge Zackely, and the whole city, more or less, were watching. All eyes were on him. They were surrounded by symbols of green unicorns, crossing swords and two wings. 

His own unit- the Wings of Freedom.  
But everyone’s focus was not on the underlying meaning of those symbols, or even on the commanders of these units. 

Eren. That’s what this trial was about. 

The kid was amazing. Nobody had ever heard of an intelligent titan, let alone a titan shifter. Having one in the Survey Corps would be incredibly useful. He could even help retake walls...  
He wasn’t going to let the military police get their hands on Eren for some “experiments”- that was for sure.  
It was time to ruin that pretty face of Eren’s and save his life. 

Levi counted every hit. 

He hoped Eren understood why he did this. His mysterious, beautiful, impulsive little soul would have to figure it out, and Levi had faith in him.  
Levi lifted Eren’s head, gave him a quick look to see if he’d made a mistake, and let him go, satisfied. He’d given enough beatings to know what an opponent could take. 

Still, he couldn’t lose this valuable asset. Checking was necessary. 

~~~ 

Lids lined with dark lashes flew open. 

The incessant vibrating of Levi’s phone had finally stopped. It had been ambient background noise; losing that had disrupted Levi’s peaceful sleep. He grumbled, rolled over and checked the time on his phone. 

1:22 

22\. 

_That’s how many times I..._

__

The vision of someone getting beaten right before him became blurry now. Levi couldn’t make out any details, but he happened to remember some faint images:  
_Two wings- one white, one blue, and..._  
_The boy with the glowing eyes._

____

A boy with sparkling eyes and soft folds around them yet to be creased and hardened by pain, familiar but foreign. Eyes with a heat that rarely disappeared. Those eyes that held soft warmth and intimacy only when… when they were alone. 

Levi was familiar with this thought process and the conflict that came with it. He’d had the same dream over and over again for a couple of years now, ever since he started living alone. He felt such an aversion to hitting him… Levi blamed the pervasive feeling of regret that always came with this dream once he woke up. It was as if he was looking back and reviewing his choices. What if he hadn’t beat him? Would that have stopped… 

He lost his train of thought. 

Levi considered himself a peaceful person. He’d only fight if he had to- if there was a reason for it. Violence was to be used intelligently- that was a family rule. Everything morally grey one did had to be justified; his mother’s prostitution was for money, since her immigration to America had barely been legal. She couldn’t earn work higher up, especially after she rose in the filthy underground world of prostitutes. 

In that dream, he didn’t violate those moral rules. The violence was necessary to save the man’s life.  
Levi couldn’t place what was irking him.  
_I beat him, and I had to._  
_But I counted every hit._  
_Why?_  
He didn’t know the man. He had never seen him before. But those eyes… 

_____ _

_____ _

There was something about his captivating eyes. 

He thought back to the feelings of warmth they were able to give him if only the man grew familiar with him. The fire in them was too much at that moment.  
That fire would always stay there. It could be partly extinguished by soft embers, and by the shadow losing individuality. 

_The man couldn’t find himself._

__

__

Words filled his mind; stories-muddled memories of a king’s curse, a father’s sin and revealing of a world bigger than ever before whirled past him in less than a second, staying long enough only to make themselves known. 

Levi seemed to know so much about that man who was a stranger to him, but only for a moment. 

Suppressed knowledge flew away as quickly as it had come.  
All that was left were his eyes. 

Levi knew he saw another pair of ocean green eyes just a couple hours ago. He hadn’t been close enough to tell if they were the same eyes.  
But why would they be the same? One’s an imaginary creation from a dream, and the other is a homeless beggar who lives on the street. They have nothing in common.  
Rationalizing the situation wouldn’t work this time, and Levi knew it. Curiosity was going to get the best of him. 

He wanted to open the window and shine a light onto the street-man again. He wanted to see his blanket’s symbol. He wanted to read the book in his hands. Most of all, he wanted to see the man’s face. 

The overwhelming need to do just that guided his movements. Turning on the phone again, he pulled up the flashlight button, avoiding the clock. Slowly, Levi pulled the curtains away and singlehandedly opened one window; the one he saw the man at before. 

It was too dark to see. He felt disappointment coming, since he couldn’t see a thing, but kept hope. There was still a chance he’d see him again.  
He didn’t know why he wanted to, though.  
_For closure, to quench curiosity, of course._  
Levi turned the flashlight on. He moved it to the area he last saw that man, changing angles so that light hit the exact spot. 

__

__

Nothing. 

The man had left. There was only a book lying by the street corner.  
Levi stood there and considered his options. He could go and grab the book, and keep it. He could read it and return it.  
_That’s it._  
He’d bring it home, read it, and put it back at dawn. 

__

__

Levi’s phone vibrated again. He pulled it out of the window just in time, right before the shaking object made him lose his grip. He checked the caller ID, sighed, and waited for the vibrating to stop. Then he checked his missed calls once it ceased. 

[(Four Eyes)-42 Missed Calls-1 Voicemail] 

The book would have to wait.


	4. Spaceship Discovery

“So, you think you’ve found your soulmate. How romantic.”  
Quiet chatter filled the air and floated around them, along with the breath of people downing one too many drinks. The bar was a small, low-end place. The drinks weren’t very good- you need an average budget for that. But the service was amazing. The bartenders seemed to care for the safety of each customer.  
He knew Mikasa would be here among the crowd, observing them and taking in the lively atmosphere. She took pleasure from testing the false companionship of workers by staying to obscure hours of the night and ordering nothing. 

“Need anything, Eren?” A bartender caught Eren next to an empty glass while she was flying from one end of the counter to another. Her next stop was a drunken trio made up of two men and one stone-faced woman, who’s faced was just flushed from several strong shots. The woman was glaring at the men with her as they competed for the bartender’s attention, catcalling and making obscene gestures at her. 

“None, Petra. You better take care of those two over there. Hope they don’t cause you trouble!” Eren tried to dismiss her as quickly as possible. He wanted to continue his conversation with Mikasa and convince her that he wasn’t just seeing things.  
“Romance isn’t dead yet, sister.”  
“Trust me, it’s as dead as your mom.”  
“What about Dad?”  
Mikasa glared at him. 

Their father had disappeared after being treated for an overdose. The prospect that he was alive still remained with Eren; he’d told Mikasa of his speculation, but she refused to believe it. Eren realized that what he said was only going to make the tension between them worse, and tried to change the topic.  
“I’m serious, Mikasa. I’d recognize his face anywhere! I’ve been seeing it in my visions for the past 20 years every day!” 

“You’ve been seeing him in your hallucinations- those aren’t visions. You can’t forget that you’re mentally unstable, Eren.” 

He looked away from Mikasa, eyes darting around the bar to find a place to rest. Eren concentrated on watching his hands clench into fists and feeling his nails dig into his sweaty palm. A wave of heat went through his body, leaving behind cold wetness. Eren realized he’d begun to sweat even more. 

“He doesn’t just appear with nothing to do. He talks to me, laughs with me, and even touches me. I can feel his-” 

Mikasa stopped him by placing her hand on top of Eren’s trembling one on the table. “That’s what hallucinations are like. You, of all people, should know that.”  
“I do! But what about my dreams?” He shook off Mikasa’s hand, earning a condescending look. “Those aren’t hallucinations! He talks to me there, too. In fact, it’s all much clearer when I dream! We ride on horses wearing capes with that symbol, the one from my blanket, on them, attacking titans and fighting for freedom from… freedom from the…” Eren struggled to remember what his dreams were about. He tried looking for goals he had in them, but could only find the word “freedom.” First, Mikasa told him there was something wrong with him. Now, he couldn’t remember something important to him. The only thing keeping him from lashing out was Mikasa forgetting to make light of his situation. 

Mikasa smiled. “This sounds like a great plot for a show.” 

“This is real!” 

His tense fist fell on the wooden table, shaking an empty glass towards the edge.  
Eren leaned back, lifting a hand to his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He let out a breath heavy with frustration and listened to Mikasa moving her chair. He couldn’t tell if she was leaving. Eren didn’t want her to leave yet; he wanted to tell her about everything he’d seen so recently and from the very first years of his life. He looked up. 

Mikasa had scooted her chair closer to the table, and was now leaning towards him.  
“Tell me about your visions, Eren.”  
He grumbled, preparing to push her away again.  
“And don’t leave out any details.” 

Eren recognized a genuine interest in her tone. This wasn’t a show to look like a good sister- she was just curious. Reluctantly, Eren searched his mind to find a scene that made the most sense to him. He’d start there and bring the others in. The brunette let out a long sigh and started talking- mumbling, at first. 

“There’s a forest…” 

“And the trees are green, yes?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Mikasa…” Eren stared at his sister, trying to convey his frustration and poor temper through his eyes. She wasn’t smiling, though, and kept a straight face while asking that question.  
“You’re serious?” 

“I know how weird your head is. If the trees are purple, then you’d have to be a complete idiot to think what you’re seeing is real.”  
“Thanks for the compliment.”  
Mikasa smiled. “That means they’re purple, then?”  
Eren quickly erased the smirk off her face by giving her another deadly glare. 

“Just listen, okay? That’s all you have to do, my dear sister. Just sit, listen and take it all in,” Eren was breathing heavily, his voice laced with restraint, “and tell me if I start getting emotional.”  
Mikasa nodded, eyeing her brother.  
Eren took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of bodies enjoying a moment of alcohol’s mindless bliss. He let it out quickly through his nose, and started talking again. 

“There’s this dream I’ve been having for a long time.” 

~~~ 

Levi was sure Hange’s screeching could be heard from two apartments away.  
“You heard me calling and fell asleep _to your ringtone?!”_

“That’s right. Now get to what you were calling me about for two hours straight.”  
“Jeez, there’s no time for small talk with you, is there?”  
“Not unless you want to talk about my very satisfying income or fucked-up dreams. Just get to the point already.”  
“Well, this could have something to do with your “fucked-up dreams” of fame.”  
“No, Hange. Different kinds…” Levi sighed. “What about them?”  
“Wait. What kind of weird dreams are you having?” They sounded excited and incredibly curious. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Why do you want to know?”  
“I want to check if I’m the only one going crazy.”  
“You’ve always been crazy, four eyes,” Levi smirked.  
“I know,” Hange let out a faint laugh, leaving silence on Levi’s end of the line, and making room for their excitement to fade away. “But my craziness might go farther back than I thought.”  
“Now I’m intrigued. I hope you finally found out that you tumbled down the stairs and hit the floor headfirst as a child.” 

“It’s a bit more serious than that, Levi.” 

He had no clue what Hange was talking about. Levi considered their rich heritage which was full of mad scientists and biologists. Hange talked about their ancestors enough for him to know their great-great aunt’s grandmother’s pet cat’s name: Sonny. He didn’t know what new family member they could’ve uncovered that was so important to them. 

“I think I have a past life.” 

Levi regretted agreeing to a phone call without a camera. Otherwise, Hange would’ve seen the look of complete exasperation on his face.  
“Shitty glasses, I hate to break it to you, but that’s bullshit.”  
“This isn’t some sort of astrology scam, Levi. I know you hate those. But I think this is real.”  
“You have thirty seconds to convince me that you’re not fucking around with me,” Levi grumbled.  
“Erwin’s there." Levi could almost feel Hange shrugging through the phone.  
“You used to go to school together. He’s bound to pop up in a dream every once in a while.”  
“You’re there, too.”  
“You’re my manager; we see each other all the time. You need some better evidence, four eyes.”  
“Uh…”  
Levi looked out the window, eyes scanning the sidewalk as Hange thought. He’d give them some more time to come up with a compelling story to keep him from hanging up. 

“There’s this kid. He’s got brown hair, and some sort of special power. I can’t remember it yet…”  
Levi scoffed, ready to make a witty remark, but Hange’s exclamation stopped him. “Oh! His eyes are also-” 

“Green.” Levi’s eyes fell on the book the homeless man had left as he interrupted Hange.  
“Do you remember anything from yours?” Hange’s voice was quiet now, almost as if they were at a funeral, or maybe a sacred place. Levi couldn’t tell what they were thinking now, and decided not to know. He knew they were trying to get him to talk, probably for his own good. He focused on finding something that would fit as a memory from a past life.  
“I’ve been having one dream for a while now.” Levi waited to continue. He carried on after hearing Hange’s sound of approval, knowing they were interested. 

“I’m standing in a courtroom. There are people all around me, and most of them have symbols on their jackets. It’s a shield with different emblems inside. I can never see their faces, except for one, and it’s right in front of me. That’s the boy you were talking about.”  
“What did you do to him?” Hange’s voice was even quieter now, barely above a whisper. 

“I beat him.” Levi looked down, trying to remember more of the dream. It was losing its clarity, but he knew the emotions in his dream were most important. “But I had a good reason to. I saved him from…from..." he couldn't find the right thought to complete the sentence, and chose one that seemed clearest to him, "I gave him freedom.” 

“The Wings of Freedom,” marveled Hange. 

Levi was still, but his mind had just doubled over. The image of two wings came back to him, this time as a patch in his hand. It was like a memory, only in his mind's eye, but something about it felt real. 

Those wings meant something to him. Levi just didn't know what. 

He was still a bit hurt from Hange’s probing and chose to ignore the regret that stemmed from thinking about the boy’s beating. Instead, he followed the rush of pride that came from Hange’s statement. He felt a sense of identity from that name. He belonged there- in that place, with those people- whatever the Wings of Freedom were. 

They sat in silence. The quiet phone line buzzed against Levi’s ear.  
Hange broke that silence. 

“Now do you believe me?” 

Levi huffed and tried to change the topic. “Did you really call me nonstop just to talk about this?” Levi tried not to come across as just experiencing a mid-life crisis, playing it off as an annoyance.  
“Actually, I called to check on how your album was coming along. How far are you?”  
Levi let out a sigh of relief and pushed aside the storm of thoughts bombarding his mind. “I just finished writing the last song. I was thinking about working out the melody and structure tomorrow, and recording on Friday.”  
“Okay… how about visiting the studio on Thursday?”  
“I can’t record tomorrow. I’m not ready yet, and I need some sleep.”  
“You’ve slept for two hours uninterrupted. That’s really good, considering your sleep schedule.” 

Hange had got him. He’d have to do a day’s work in one night.  
“I don’t know how you convince me to do this each time, four eyes.”  
“I’m your manager, Levi. I have my ways, and I know yours!” 

Levi groaned, lifting a finger to press the red button on his phone and hang up. But the man decided to keep it at his ear, thinking of a way to end the conversation without giving Hange room to think about their next round of questions for him. 

“Thanks for everything, Hange.” 

Satisfied, Levi hung up. He plugged his phone in to charge; its battery was drained after missing calls for too long.  
Levi found his notepad on his bed and examined it, trying to read the chicken scratch left on its pages. He grabbed a pencil and erased the scrawl, replacing it with a neater, angled font. Then Levi tapped the lyrics into his phone, saving them for tomorrow’s recording session. 

Reading over them, Levi remembered the melody that man had sung into the streets. It started going from octive to octive, and grew loud and high-pitched in the chorus. Levi silently thanked the homeless man for his contribution. 

He’d work with that melody and make a new song- one that mattered little in the grand scheme of things, but made a small difference in the world’s genetic code.  
He migrated to the electronic keyboard in his room and played the simple melody in single notes at first. Then he worked through it, finding the perfect chords for transitions and climaxes. As the moon traveled through the dark sky, Levi hummed along with the piano, arranging letters and lines to make sense; slowly, quietly, finding the right place in time for each word. 

As chords started to complement one verse after another, Levi gave them a voice. 

_But waking seems an awful dream._

Just before he sang the chorus, Levi sat and listened to that line. He thought back to his conversation with Hange.  
He'd found himself searching for something more many times in life; he loved to look for its meaning, but despised pondering useless ideas at the same time. He considered the weight of Hange’s revelation of having a past life. 

Did he really want to get involved in something that had already ended? It wasn’t worth it, he thought.  
_But I can’t leave that man again…_  
Levi knew he had unfinished business with the world, but waking up from his current life seemed like too much.  
He’d have to decide after he recorded this song. 

_Late into the night, a man’s voice with his piano could be heard crying out with musicality. A stray cat paused to listen, sang back, and ran off, nearly tripping over a lost book._

~~~ 

The liveliness of the bar had died down as the day’s clock reset to single digits. Eren was panting, out of breath after telling Mikasa everything he knew about the world he’d seen since birth. She was fascinated with the technology Eren explained, even asking for him to draw a diagram. She criticized his drawing skills, and filled in minor details that Eren had forgotten- texture, steam and how it rested on the human body. Mikasa ended up explaining to him how to grip the gear correctly and how to travel with more efficiency. 

Mikasa’s involvement shocked him. He hadn’t seen her so interested in something she deemed “imaginary” since she was a toddler. All was going well, so Eren moved on to the next topic: people. 

“And then there’s you, Armin, and…” Eren looked around the bar, his eyes landing on the trio who was hitting on Petra before. His eyes lingered for longer than he intended on the burly blond male. “And even those three, and Petra!” 

The pleasant expression on Mikasa’s face melted away, showing a confused one underneath.  
“What do you mean?” 

Eren's idea of peaceful conversation was going downhill. His plan was failing, all because of Mikasa's concern for him.  
“All of you guys are here. It’s only people I’ve seen in real life, though, like Petra. I don’t really know her, but I get along with her well. I feel like I know her, and I can talk to her without a problem! Same with you; don’t you think we got along awfully well for two strangers-turned-siblings?”  
Mikasa’s eyes drifted away from Eren. She seemed to be processing what Eren was implying. 

“But there is one exception. It’s that man, Captain. I saw him today.” 

“He’s in those dreams?” Mikasa was still avoiding eye contact, but clearly paying attention.  
“Yeah. He looks exactly the same. Even the way he stood and observed me; I know that it was him.” Eren saw Mikasa’s brows furrow. She looked like she was about to protest, so he tried to talk before his sister got to him. “When I saw him, I felt like I had to protect him. I was too far away to do anything…” 

Those words made Eren’s breath hitch in his throat. He felt like he’d said this before to his sister, talking about Captain. 

Mikasa was looking at him again, speaking carefully and quietly, “I think I’ve heard that from you before.”  
“Me too.” 

She sighed. “Look, Eren. All of this is compelling; I’m even interested. But seeing people and symbols and costumes… that’s too far for me. I’m sorry. I’d be able to understand you if I knew you weren’t sick in the head.”  
Eren’s eyes grew wide. He’d spent hours explaining every little detail he could remember about the life he lived away from this world, and he’d gotten no sympathy or understanding as a reward. He though Mikasa would be on his side and believe him, but she was blinded by what people called his “mental illness,” too. 

“Forget about it. I’m leaving.” Eren stood up, his feet shaking the bar’s wood floor. He started walking away, stomping as he went. 

“Eren!”  
He turned around at the sound of his sister’s voice, remembering it as a command. He suddenly realized what she was trying to do, and stormed out of the bar. 

“He’s just like Dad,” Mikasa mumbled to herself, shaking her head. She called over Petra and asked for her first drink of the night. 

Eren stepped out onto a dark street. He was frustrated with Mikasa, but also disappointed in her. He expected more of his sister, always wrapped up in her red scarf, hiding what seemed to be another world in her mind. 

Eren felt trapped... like in a soundproof room. People could see him, but they could never really hear him.  
Feeling a jolt of inspiration, Eren reached for his book of poetry. It had pages upon pages of poems by his favorite poets, but he’d attached a notebook to the end, to have room for his own works. He had it stuffed into his impromptu bag, he thought. But as Eren rummaged through his possessions, he didn’t feel the familiar velveteen cover of his book. He searched a bit more, twisting his arm frantically now. 

Panic filled his head as his thoughts took up only one shape.  
He’d lost his book.


	5. Studio Jams (You can now choose from "singin' strawberry" or "blackberry bop" preserves)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving up on chapter titles. Maybe I'll put in crappy jokes and references instead? I'll accept comments w/ title ideas if you'd like! Anyway, I recommend listening to the songs our dear boys sing in this fic. You'll get a basic idea of their voices and singing habits so you're not sitting and reading italicized words with some made-up tune. I know you have the internet. It's not like you've printed this out and you're reading it in class instead of doing reading your biology textbook (not that I've ever done that! Not at all... hehe...)
> 
> Enjoy!

Levi lifted his hands from his keyboard for the first time in hours. An amber ray of sunlight shocked his eyes, leaving him to see dark spots for the next couple of seconds.  
After his eyes went back to normal, he checked his phone for the time: 7:20. The sun had just risen, bathing the array of buildings around him in red light. Levi sat and watched. He observed as the crimson blanket turned to orange, and then to a pale, almost blue yellow. 

_A sunrise by the beach would be completely different_ , Levi mused. He’d been to the ocean several times over a weekend in Ocean City, in New Jersey. Levi liked the idea of an island devoted to indulging in the beach’s beauty, but hated the crowds that accumulated there during the day. 

He took walks at dawn and dusk to avoid them. Dusk was risky since the boardwalk was filled up and he couldn’t visit his favorite donut shop, run by a starch fanatic named Sasha. Her husband, Connie, visited every once in a while after a long day of work.  
The beach was a breath of fresh air from living in the city for most of his life. Levi never complained about New York- he was much too attached to it to do so. It was the city that never slept, after all. But the ocean gave him a sense of freedom that outshined New York’s character for him. 

Levi observed the ocean when the sun hung low. During sunrise, the surface would turn pale but extraordinarily bright; it was full of light greens and blues, tumbled around with the sun’s blush and orange light on glassy water. If he was a good photographer, Levi would hang up the pictures he took each day he walked. 

Instead, he tried translating that beauty into music. He made an EP of songs, one for each ocean on Earth. It’d been his first all-instrumental collection, and the feedback was enough to motivate Levi to continue documenting the world’s beauty.  
He took inspiration from what he could take in through his senses, for the most part. Levi experimented with looking into himself, too. He understood the value of emotions, and worked his own into music. Some of his most popular work centered around strong emotions. He’d have to figure out how to get in better touch with those, Levi thought to himself. 

After observing the sunrise coming in through one uncovered window for well over a minute, Levi turned back to gather his things. He’d written down some quick notes on the melody of his newest song, and had some low-quality recordings on his phone. He’d practiced and perfected it all night. 

He opened a new folder on his phone to hold the night’s work, including the lyrics and basic tune to another song he’d written as the sky showed hints of morning light nearly three hours ago. It was barely started, but had some rough structure and basic ideas to the words. Levi hoped to have some extra time with the studio equipment to play around with it. 

He stood up and stretched for the first time in what felt like days, feeling the tug from his shoulders to his lower back. He then migrated from his keyboard-desk hybrid to his bouncy, creaky bed, sitting on the edge.  
He couldn’t see any people or cars from where he was sitting- only the walls of nearby buildings. The street was behind the window with sky-blue curtains hanging over. Levi remembered it as the one he closed in a desperate attempt to block out the peculiar man from last night. He wasn’t too concerned with him anymore; the morning light had pushed away anything creepy he’d thought, but curiosity lingered from his conversation with Hange. 

He’d explored the idea of past lives before. They intrigued him, but Levi found logical reasons disproving each claim he heard of. After reading story after story and finding too many holes to consider them real, Levi gave up and left the topic alone.  
He tried to leave it alone while working on music, too, but that bright-eyed brat seemed to inspire him.  
He had spent his time after finishing Hange’s request contemplating the existence of past lives and what he'd experienced. His hesitation towards exploring something he couldn’t see was disrupting his thinking, but Levi had plugged away at analyzing dreams, ideas and even instincts he rarely noticed. 

The process was grueling. He had been scribbling down words that popped up here and there as fast as he could, but couldn’t connect the dots quite right. The idea was to make a song about this “past life”, and figure out who he was in detail. Levi expected it to be quick, like a snap, and it would all come to him. To his disappointment, nothing he thought of made sense. And if it did, he knew it was his mind making things up.  
Levi decided to change the topic of the song, making it about self-discovery and memories coming and going too soon. He could hold on to some of them through dreams, but everything else was hidden somewhere he couldn’t access. 

He realized this was only the beginning of his search to understand exactly what had happened to him last night. According to Hange, he had only scratched the surface of what he was going to discover. He came to the conclusion that they had way too much free time for their own good. 

Levi stopped stalling and drew away the window’s curtains. He hurriedly checked the corner where the book had been, seeing that it was gone. He huffed and shifted his gaze to look at the people rushing to get to work. 

It was time for him to get to work, too. 

Levi took his scraps of paper and stuffed them into a folder taken from a shelf in his desk. He stepped out of his bedroom/home office; Levi used to think the space had too much going on, but dismissed the thought after inspecting his open-concept kitchen-living room hybrid.  
He entered the kitchen and started up his coffee maker, choosing a coffee packet from the popular coffee monopoly Maria, Rose, Sina & Co. There was a coffee shop on every street corner with the names printed in bright neon lettering and stone walls inside. Levi hated the false companionship baristas gave him- he knew it was all empty. But, he had to admit, the coffee was the best out there.  
The coffee maker gurgled as his cup was filled automatically. This was one of life’s pleasure, not having to brew and pour coffee yourself. It was prepared right in front of him just as he liked it; without sugar or cream, completely black. He couldn’t afford one of those fancy ones that makes a latte with foam on top, but he didn’t really need one. He sipped his hot coffee, absentmindedly looking out the window and following the sun. 

Levi finished his cup sooner than he’d expected. He washed and left it to dry in the sink, leaving the kitchen and heading back to his room.  
He felt a stray piece of string rub between his toes as he walked, reminding him that he still had his night-clothes (and embarrassingly fluffy socks) on. Levi changed out of them and put on a moderately nice button-down shirt and some slacks. He was a master at business-casual and dressed to reflect his status, depending on the seriousness of his work that day. He considered recording to be a serious occasion- or maybe he wanted to dress up just for the fun of it; he wasn’t sure.  
Levi jogged into his tiny bathroom to take a look in the mirror. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to see if the waist of his pants and shirt went well together, but could barely get a look in the head-to-torso sized mirror. Satisfied with his first impression, Levi filled one hand with his folder and the other with a light coat into which he put his phone. In that same pocket were keys to his apartment just in case the keypad didn’t work. He double-checked to see if they were there, opened his door, punched a code into the keypad to lock it, and walked off. 

He passed a flight of stairs that descended too many floors down, deciding to take the elevator. It opened immediately and let out the smell of strong coffee- probably from someone on their morning run a bit earlier.  
It opened on the last floor- a small lobby with a sleek, minimalist lounge area. Automatic doors opened before him as he stepped out onto the already-bustling streets of New York City. It was only about quarter-till-eight, but the world was as awake as a small town during its long-awaited annual festival. 

The recording studio was four blocks away. At his above-average walking pace, Levi knew he would be there in roughly five minutes, walking along avenues. It was a short walk- something easy to start the day off with. If he was in less of a rush, Levi would take streets and weave through them, making the walk take about fifteen minutes. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time today, though. 

He got started, passing the street corner where the homeless man had sat the night before. Levi was disappointed at not seeing the book, but was relieved at the same time. He didn’t feel like confronting him, and feared he’d accidentally mention his suspicions about him. Or, even worse, he’d get mad at the man. Levi was a bit more unpredictable than he liked. He considered himself an even-tempered and emotionally healthy man, but wasn’t easy to read or predict from Hange’s perspective. Levi didn’t know enough about their upbringing to figure out what “easy to read” meant for them, but looking at their knack for social interaction, he knew he had a bad case of resting-bitch-face. 

He walked by the street corner without giving the matter another thought. He continued along, marking the avenues he passed. Soon enough, Levi stood at the doors of the Guarding Corps Recording Studio. 

He was greeted by Mike, the tall blond studio owner. He nodded; Levi noted how Mike refrained from sniffing him this time, and smiled. Mike was getting used to him now. Levi had trusted him from the start- he cared for the wellbeing of his customers and visitors- but Mike was always quiet and serious around him. Levi realized that he was usually like that, but he could tell that he was comfortable being around Levi now that they both nodded to each other and held understanding eye contact. It was a companionship of little words, but it was a strong one. 

Mike led him to his favorite room; a dimly lit studio far away from the entrance which took more than one long hallway to get to. He liked the seclusion; it helped him avoid other people looking in on his singing. Levi preferred sharing his music when it was perfectly sung, mixed and orchestrated, and when people could hear audio and his face in sync and in context. 

He entered the room. Mike left with a quick nod, which Levi reciprocated. He was then left to his own work, settling down in a spinning chair on wheels by a laptop, which he used to upload some of the sound files on his phone. There were two other desktop computers and a mixing desk, which he’d be using later. The space was open, without any walls separating the work area and recording area. The room was about the size of Levi’s living room, and was soundproofed.  
He set up the computers and tinkered with some mixer setting he used as default in his music, and then moved on to the more open area. There was a piano there for easy access, but Levi had to set up the microphone to his preferences.  
When he was done preparing the space, Levi went back to the computers to review what he had to do that day. 

~~~ 

Eren was frustrated with himself, but thankful for being so horrible at making bindles. 

He found the book on the street corner where he had left it. Eren assumed it must have fallen out right after he made the bag, and made a resolution to ask Mikasa about tying better knots. 

His walk had taken a good hour. Eren scoured the streets, looking over each alleyway and avenue hideout, and petting any rare friendly strays along the way. He pitied them, and wished he could give one a home. He saw himself in them, after all. But he didn’t want to have another mouth to feed, so he kept his guilt to himself. 

Eren sat back down on a street corner a little further back from the one before. He wanted to be away from the Captain’s apartment to clear his head a bit and organize his thoughts. Mikasa’s words got to him, and he was seriously doubting himself.  
He wasn’t diagnosed with schizophrenia per se, but the psychiatrists he was taken to suspected something pretty close. He didn’t see major improvements in his state after therapy or medication, though, and was given up on by his parents. They learned to deal with him and ignoring his episodes seemed to work well enough.  
Mikasa had listened to him most of the time, but was heavily influenced by Eren’s parents to disbelieve him. With age she had gotten both more empathetic, but for more doubtful and questioning. Imagination seemed to fade with time for many. 

Eren sighed. He ran his hand over the book’s soft and slightly grimy cover, remembering the sensation fondly. As he opened the book, Eren was reminded of the words that had been buzzing in his head from when he walked out of the bar, frustrated with Mikasa.  
Pages danced over his fingers as he leafed through the book. He briefly stopped at O Captain, My Captain! but refused to spend more than a couple of seconds mentally reciting a line or two. He flipped near the back of the book to a dog-eared page, with Silent Waving Song written boldly at the top. Eren wasn’t very good with titles, but knew it would come to him once he got the refrain. 

Eren wrote poems. He really enjoyed working with words to make art from something so easily used in day-to-day life. Something ordinary becoming beautiful… Eren wanted to bring that into his life.  
Every once in a while, he would get a melody stuck in his head from a passing car. He’d fill in the notes and rhythms, creating something of his own. He’d apply it to a poem- either one not of his own work or a poem written by himself- and tried to change it to fit. From that, a song was born. Eren only really dabbled with music, in his mind. Recently, he had a lot of motivation to write a song, and was succeeding. 

_On the outside, always looking in_  
_Will I ever be more than I've always been?_  
_'Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass_  
_Waving through a window_

____

He looked over the refrain he was working on. The skeleton of the song was about feeling misunderstood and trying to be heard- at least that’s what Eren was going for. He used his own experiences and feelings in the song, but meant for it to be relatable for many people in similar situations, trapped within the world they were born into, unable to find themselves. 

Eren wrote down the words he’d been keeping from running away. 

_I try to speak but nobody can hear_  
_So I wait around for an answer to appear_  
_While I’m watch, watch, watching people pass_  
_Waving through a window, oh_

____

He’d given up searching for the answer to his visions, and Mikasa’s good-natured “help” only discouraged him more. Meeting Ymir and “Krista” gave him a sliver of hope, and seeing Captain made him more eager than ever to figure out the puzzle. But talking to people about it reinforced his growing doubts about his mind’s validity. Repeatedly being ignored, disregarded and pushed away by people he knew and loved hurt. All he could do was watch and wait. 

_Can anybody see? Is anybody waving back at me?_

Eren smiled and wrote the line down. A recap, a question for the world, and the suggestion that there’s some hope out there.  
Satisfied with himself, Eren stood up, bag and book in hand. He was going to record it. 

Guarding Corps Recording Studio was managed by Mike Zacharias, a tall, imposing blond man. He had an unusual habit of sniffing customers, but Eren saw the usefulness of a good sense of smell. Mike was also an incredibly kind, empathetic man. He charged Eren much less per session compared other, wealthier people.  
His wallet was paper-thin, but held enough for a filling meal and a monthly leisure activity. That included recording music and spoken-word, or a pack of pens- maybe even a notebook. 

Eren marched out of his dark corner of New York and stepped out onto the brightly lit street. The city was alive again. Eren preferred it at night: empty, but never quiet. He enjoyed seeing the world in a more personal, alive light, too, and took in the atmosphere of the city during the day. More people meant more donations, after all.  
Eren was thinking about how he would change the refrain melody a bit to fit the new line he added. He was lost in thought, and barely noticed when he passed the recording studio. He was at another street corner, recognizing traffic lights that were out of place. Embarrassed, he turned around and power-walked in the studio’s direction. 

The air-conditioned building was refreshing and contrasted with late summer air. Mike was standing at the door, already leaning down to sniff him. Eren let him and watched as his face went from suspicious to soft and smiling.  
“Welcome back, Eren. Did you pet a cat on your way here?”  
Eren nodded and responded eagerly, “Yeah! I met a lot of nice ones today.”  
“Good. Your favorite room is taken today. You’ll either have to wait, or go somewhere else.” 

“I’ll wait.” 

Mike nodded and lead him to a bench by the recording room. He glanced through a small window at the room’s door, checking on whoever was there at the moment.  
“He’ll be done soon.”  
“Good, thanks.”  
Mike lumbered away, checking each room’s cleanliness. Eren sighed when he was out of sight. 

“Soon,” usually meant at least an hour in Mike’s sense of time. Eren took out his poetry book and hummed along to the words, attempting to do a quiet vocal warm-up. 

~~~ 

_We’ll be waiting for the night,_  
_Waiting for the night_  
_To come and rescue us,_  
_Feet off the ground_

____

Levi had made sure the computer was picking up the microphone’s signals. This was the refrain, and Levi had to do several takes, slightly varying the texture of his voice as the song progressed and its power changed. He toyed with his falsetto a bit, which he had been training to use in his softer music. This song leaned more towards rock, as did many of his earliest songs. Levi was revisiting the past with this one, looking at the world through a darker and fragile lens. 

_Besides, we’re living in this house of cards_  
_That pulls and pushes with the air_  
_Fearing a feather to the earth_  
_Could destroy it and us,_  
_Inside unaware!_

____

People were fragile, and lived in a fragile world. A “house of cards.” Levi admitted to himself that even he saw the temporality of his life. It was short, and he could only do so much to be stable- financially, mentally and physically. 

_All we want is something more_  
_To dream about and to adore._  
_All we want is a little place_  
_To close our eyes, to end this chase._

____

The bridge changed the song’s tone to something more peaceful and reflective. It was slightly repetitive, giving the listener time to observe the song. They were meant to look into themselves, and then at the outside world, and then to how the world moved. 

_The living are moving,_  
_Gracefully_  
_And painfully rushing ahead,_  
_While unraveling the most essential thread_  
_Of the fabric that covers us._

____

Levi had studied human motivation, desperation, and instinct at university. Overall, human psychology. He was fascinated by it, and often incorporated his observations into his music.  
He hated vulnerability- it made him feel weak. This song was supposed to remove a blanket of security and expose people’s thoughts and motivation, exploring their vulnerability. 

_The warmth of the sun_  
_Is melting the snowflakes_  
_Before they hit the ground._

____

Levi ended, restating the first verse’s melody and giving a visual finish to the song. 

Much of the song was done in one take, thanks to Levi practicing the night before. It was planned out, ready to go, and organized. He took off his headphones which played the piano track he made last night. The accompaniment had helped him tremendously with keeping track of the song’s rhythm. 

He sat down at a computer and played the first half of the song, stopping at the refrain, which had a couple of versions. He listened to each one, eliminating them until he had two- one for each refrain in the song. The second half was done in one take, and Levi was satisfied with what it sounded like. He toyed with the mixing board a bit, giving his voice some more reverb and adding a bit of distortion to a better sounding piano track, which he had recorded in the studio a bit earlier. Levi spent the next half hour piecing the song together, changing the sound, redoing and editing verses every once in a while and making it sound polished. 

Levi listened to it in its entirety. Satisfied, he put it into a file and downloaded it to his laptop. Then, he opened a folder for his next song.  
He prepared the equipment again, and proceeded to do some warm-ups to sing in a higher register. His last song was done lower than usual, and his voice had gotten used to it. 

Ready, Levi cleared his throat and sang into the mic. 

_Is this the part where the brain scan shows where memories reside?_  
_Some ambiguous shape in me suddenly producing light_  
_Triggered like a tripwire, every time I breathe it in_  
_Isn’t it strange that an ocean breeze is what unlocks where I’ve been?_

____

Levi had spent enough time studying the brain to see the effect smell has on memory recovery, and it was phenomenal both in process and imagery. The brain lighting up so quickly in response to a smell… for Levi, that smell was the salty ocean. He traveled there with his parents as a toddler, and those memories always came to the surface when the smell hit his nose. 

_It is the friction that lights the match_  
_Desperate attempts that make it last_  
_So hold my breath for as long as I can,_  
_Before long, the wind swells in_  
_Starting a fight I could never win_  
_But I'll hold on as long as I can._

____

That smell gave him pleasant memories of a simple childhood. He enjoyed it, but that was never what made him want to hold his breath and hold on to the smell. There was another clear memory, one of standing atop a cliff and looking down at the ocean, and another of watching Hange fooling around in the waves. And it wasn’t just Hange- that man was there, and so were his friends, and Levi’s subordinates. There was an air of happiness about the group, except for the man. He looked to the future, asking a question that Levi could only remember as the word “enemy.” 

It all felt like a happy, carefree moment of victory and accomplishment, but that word unsettled him- it was as if there was something much worse than before coming. Levi could almost remember what it was, but… 

_It finishes against my will_  
_The light goes out, my heart goes still,_  
_And just like that, I believe in ghosts._

____

_Time and space are at my back_  
_Performing disappearing acts_  
_Now I can’t escape the smell of smoke._

____

That was the most frustrating part of it all. The moment of clarity was so beautiful and detailed, but so, so short. It only lasted as long as a breath. 

Levi believed that it might have been a part of his past life. Hange was in that memory, he thought. He could only remember their glasses shining from a memory of seeing the memory- a ghost of it. It was like time was tangled up, and he could only see blurry, faded images of the past. 

_Research says that the only way to keep memories intact_  
_Is to lock them away and close the doors until countless years have passed,_  
_I guess that explains why the strangest things can conjure up the past_  
_And forgotten time will find its long way back._

____

Forgotten times would be remembered, eventually. Sometimes, they were buried under anger, repressed emotions, or just too many cobwebs from negligence. Locking memories away would keep them safe when ready to be found again. Maybe that was why people with past lives could barely remember who they were? If so, why would he be different? Why was he seeing so much and figuring it all out so quickly? 

_It’s gravity in an hourglass_  
_Responsible for the avalanche_  
_And the loudest silence I’ve ever heard._

____

_A memory clear as a bell_  
_A story I will try to tell_  
_Maybe this time without words_

____

The last verses started out with him belting the first line, as if making sense of a revelation. An avalanche of emotion and information, bringing upon him a peace filled with tons upon tons of tension and messages- silence, in theory, but ringing in the ears with thoughts and ideas. 

To end the song, Levi made a commitment both to the world and to himself; a promise to tell the world about wherever his journey would lead him, and to accept the fact that he had more to his life than what he thought, and more than he wanted. The last line was quiet- gentle, but not mumbled. 

Levi turned off the microphone and huffed, feeling accomplished. Recording the song had gone well, though he had to do many, many takes to get the new, unfamiliar lyrics and melody right.  
He knew he wouldn’t be finished with the song that day- recording it had taken over an hour, and he’d already spent two hours in the studio. Mike had knocked about half an hour ago saying that someone was waiting to use his room. Why couldn’t they go to another room? This was his reserved room. 

Levi quickly edited his voice track a bit, recording some simple chords for it as a reference for later work with the song’s orchestration. He didn’t add any effects to his voice; the song was supposed to be raw and personal. Levi would add some soft piano and acoustic guitar later.  
He put his work in progress into a folder, downloaded it into his laptop and cloud, and started packing up his stuff. He’d barely used what was in his folder. He still kept it as a reference, though, just in case. 

Levi left the room. He passed a scruffy-looking man on the bench by his room, looking up at him with a shocked expression and wide eyes. 

Those eyes were familiar, and reminded Levi of the homeless man who he saw last night. he decided to ask. 

“Are you homeless, sir?”  
“Um-” Levi suddenly realized the rude interpretation of his question as the man blushed and struggled to respond.  
“I didn’t mean that to sound condescending, young man! Sorry.” Levi raced to fix his mistake.  
“No problem, Cap- sir,” he smiled, eyebrows moving back and raising at the front, “and yeah, I’m homeless. Surprising?”  
“Yes, actually. Seeing young people my age out on the streets is heartbreaking.” Levi caught the man calling him a name other than his own, but catching his mistake just in time. Did he not recognize him as Levi Stradtman, the “new-age” singer-songwriter?  
“It may look depressing, but I enjoy the freedom.” 

They stared at each other, bathing in the silence that filled the hallway, suffocating them.  
“Would I recognize you anywhere?” the homeless man asked.  
“I’m a well-known singer. You might’ve heard some of my songs online, or seen me in an interview or two- Levi Stradtman?”  
“You sing?” The surprise on the boy’s face almost made Levi jump. He was in a studio with a microphone; through simple logic, the man should’ve put two and two together. 

The boy calmed himself and continued, “I don’t have a phone or anything like that... I wonder why I feel like I’ve seen your face before.”  
Levi nodded and observed the boy’s face. It was studying his own now, bright green eyes boring into his gunmetal grey. 

“Well, bright-eyes, it’s your turn to use the room.”  
He smiled at the sound of the nickname. The man walked through the open door. “Thanks, Captain Levi.”  
“You’re not welcome, brat.” Levi completed the exchange out of habit, knowing exactly what to say. 

_...Captain Levi?_

“Wait, what’s your name?” Levi turned to ask the man, but realized he’d already closed the room’s door. He hadn’t heard Levi. 

_Who is he?_

~~~ 

“You’re not welcome, brat.” 

Eren smirked at the snarky reply. _That’s Capta- er, Levi for you!_

Knowing Captain’s real name made things a bit easier now. It was challenging remembering to use his real one, but he’d been out of practice for 2,000 years. Eren forgave himself for the memory loss. 

Levi didn’t seem to recognize him. He didn’t have an amazing, life-changing revelation that made him run into Eren’s arms, tearing up and kissing him. It was Levi, after all. He wasn’t usually extremely affectionate- and he had also gotten involved in his own life. He probably didn’t have enough free time to have an existential crisis right now. 

Eren had become ecstatic after talking to Levi. His Captain was there, real, and talking to him! Of course, Eren considered the fact that Levi could’ve been a hallucination. It had happened before, but the Levi that lived inside his mind was… different. He was more carefree, but tougher on the outside. This Levi- the real Levi- didn’t remember anything about Eren, and he was scarily polite, calling him “sir,” and “young man.” 

Eren sighed and turned on the large desktop computers in the room, opening a recording program for the microphones.  
He sat down at the piano and hummed the tune to his song, looking at his book. Eren placed a single finger on a key and pressed it rhythmically, shaking his head and choosing another one after the note didn’t fit the key he was in. A, he remembered; the song was in the key of A.  
Recording the backing track was a quick process. It was only for Eren’s ears and the spare headphones the studio provided, just to help him stay in tune and in tempo.  
He double-checked the computer’s settings, and walked up to the microphone. After a short scale, he began to sing. 

_I’ve learned to slam on the brake_  
_Before I even turn the key_  
_Before I make a mistake_  
_Before I lead with the worst of me_

____

_Give them no reason to stare_  
_No slipping up if you slip away_  
_So I got nothing to share_  
_No, I got nothing to say_

____

____

Eren started out with a quiet, almost shaky voice. This was his first time recording his own work, and was beginning to regret making it rhyme. Rhyming poetry was childish to him- but he couldn’t change the song’s entire structure now. 

Hesitation was everywhere in his life- hesitation to make connections because of his temper, hesitation to start a new chapter in his life, to make new friends… and on top of all of that, he saw things nobody else could see. Moving away from the world protected him. 

_Step out, step out of the sun_  
_If you keep getting burned_  
_Step out, step out of the sun_  
_Because you’ve learned, because you’ve learned_

____

____

_On the outside always looking in_  
_Will I ever be more than I’ve always been_  
_‘Cause I’m tap, tap, tapping on the glass_  
_I’m waving through a window_  
_I try to speak but nobody can hear_  
_So I wait around for an answer to appear_  
_While I’m watch, watch, watching people pass_  
_Waving through a window, oh_

____

____

Throughout his life, Eren was reprimanded by his parents for talking about his visions and stared at by people on the street whenever he started hallucinating in public. That was during his early years of being homeless, and learned to go to less densely populated places when he was feeling vulnerable. 

He’d always felt different. Sometimes, just being born into the world made him feel like he was someone special. But people tried to tame what was wild, and had even succeeded in some way to tame Eren. He didn’t consider himself passive and domesticated, though- he was only stuck behind glass that made him seen and not heard. He was homeless, outspoken and unpredictable- not a combination many people liked. That gave people the impression that he could be silenced and ignored. 

_Can anybody see, is anybody waving back at me?_

Maybe there was someone out there who felt the same. Maybe they’d understand him. 

_We start with stars in our eyes_  
_We start believing that we belong_  
_But every sun doesn’t rise_  
_And no one tells you where you went wrong_

____

____

Eren’s dreams had been crushed over and over again. His college application was rejected. His parents had left him. He was tormented by people he could never talk to, pain he couldn’t get away from, and ex-friends who had betrayed him. Nobody told him why he was chosen by the world to endure it all. 

This time, the pre-chorus was more powerful, with Eren’s voice growing in volume and richness. Levi could hear it from his place on the bench- it seemed that the man had forgotten to secure the soundproofing lock on the door. Levi got up to close it, but stopped at the door’s window. The boy’s face was heavy with emotion, strained with frustration. 

Levi was taken aback by his voice at the chorus. It was young and full, filling the refrain with emotion and power. The words were carrying such determination and drive that Levi wanted to join him. He wondered where a homeless man had learned to sing like that. 

Suddenly, the room went quiet except for a low rumble, which Levi identified as the singer’s, going low and thoughtful. 

_When you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around_  
_Do you ever really crash or even make a sound?_  
_When you’re falling in a forest…_

____

____

Eren had decided to make this section repetitive and quiet, at first. It was the journey to the song’s climax, and it had to prepare whoever was listening. 

This was his favorite part of the song. He’d talked to Petra about his hobbies and weird dreams before, and found out that she had a phobia of trees, and more specifically, falling off or crashing into one. She told Eren about a dream where she was flung into a tree, and always heard horses as the dream ended. It was weird to Eren, but strangely intriguing, as if he’d felt something similar- almost traumatic. He chose to put it into his song, making it a metaphor for helplessness and isolation. 

Levi interpreted it as a memory. It sounded very personal and self-patronizing, like trying to put oneself down. At the same time, though, it made him think how quiet and deadly a forest was. It covered everything, and made help seem hopeless. Was that what the man was going for? 

_...When you’re falling in a forest and there’s nobody around_  
_Do you ever really crash or even make a sound?_  
_Did I even make a sound?_  
_Did I even make a sound?_  
_It’s like I never made a sound_  
_Will I ever make a sound?_

____

____

As he repeated the phrase, the boy’s grew louder until it reached something new in the verse. He was asking himself- no, analyzing the memory- if what happened was important. That is, if he was singing in metaphors. Levi liked metaphors and double-meanings and assumed that was it. 

After asking the same question twice, the man’s voice became harsh and frustrated at the suggestion that the “never made a sound,” but then grew soft at the last question, appearing to lose determination. Even his large eyes stared dishearted, straight through the window and into Levi’s. Then, he blinked and focused them elsewhere. 

_On the outside always looking in_  
_Will I ever be more than I’ve always been_  
_‘Cause I’m tap, tap, tapping on the glass_  
_Waving through a window_  
_I..._

____

____

That loss of hope was just a mask for the next wild burst of energy to come, starting the refrain with new power. The boy even made a “tapping” motion with his hand as he sang, earning a smile from Levi. 

_...Waving through a window, oh_  
_Can anybody see, is anybody waving back at me?_

__

__

With a quick glance at the window, the boy closed his eyes as he took a breath, puffing out his chest. 

_Is anybody waving?_  
_Waving_  
_Waving_  
_Whoa-oh, whoa-oh_

____

____

Levi stood at the door with impossibly wide eyes and mouth slightly open. The man was belting out those high notes as if he was born to. His face twisted a bit with effort to sing the lines, but they came out strong and clear, showing the world that he was walking up to his metaphorical window. In fact, he was punching through that window, bringing his determination and power to center stage. His last note was drawn-out and sung in a comfortable register; it was filled with confidence.  
As soon as he stopped singing, Eren opened his teary scrunched-up eyes, panting and grinning, and stared at Levi, who had the faintest of smiles on his face. 

Levi waved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in order of appearance:
> 
> -A Skeleton of Something More: by Sleeping at Last  
> -Smell: by Sleeping at Last  
> -Waving Through a Window: Sung by Ben Platt, Written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, from the Broadway musical Dear Evan Hansen


End file.
